


Safehaven

by mortyismyspiritanimal



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Abandonment, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Orphanage, BAMF Morty Smith, Fluff and Angst, Hate Sex, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Love Confessions, Love/Hate, M/M, Punk Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty), Slow Burn, Tags May Change, Young Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-25 15:34:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14381652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mortyismyspiritanimal/pseuds/mortyismyspiritanimal
Summary: Ricky was a young orphan boy living on the streets, struggling daily to find food and shelter on the unforgiving streets of the city. All hope seems lost until he comes across a kind hearted woman who runs the local orphanage, who generously offers to take him in and give him a second chance at a good life.All Ricky has to do now is try to tolerate his new family and adapt to his new home. But the green eyed brat he shares a room with makes that a little... difficult.





	1. A Second Chance

_Just get through the night._

    This was the phrase that Ricky repeated to himself as he roamed the empty city streets, toting his belongings in a big, bulky backpack along with a travel-sized suitcase, practically glued to his hand. He was desperately in search of a decent alleyway or a bus station, hell, he'd even settle for a cardboard box at this point. He just needed shelter from the bitter cold of the night. He veered off into a dark alley and rested against the chilled brick of the building. He threw his head back and let out a heavy sigh.

  
_Just get through the night._

  
    He looked down at his hands, they were calloused and filthy. He couldn't remember the last time they weren't. He'd been wandering these streets for far too long and somehow managed to pick up every spec of dirt along the way. He was in desperate need of a shower. He glanced at the vacant road beside him, wondering how a city this crowded could still have streets so deserted. Looking back at the alleyway he now found himself in, he discovered how absolutely disgusting it was. Although now abandoned, it seemed like every crackhead, heroin addict, and $20 hooker within a 10 mile radius had once occupied the small space. Used condoms, old needles, and forgotten makeshift beds lay scattered across the ground. The sight alone made him grimace at the thought of sleeping in a place so vile, no matter how dirty he already was. He cursed softly to himself and rounded the corner once more, leaving the alley behind, just like all its past tenants.

    He closed his eyes as he continued walking down the sidewalk. He let his mind wonder, trying to block out the feeling of complete hopelessness consuming him, and soon enough he became lost in his own thoughts . He fell back into the past, remembering the privilege of having a warm bed to sleep in, which now seemed like a heaven sent miracle compared to where he'd been sleeping lately. He remembered hot dinners and steamy showers, his own room, his own house, parents who cared for him, and a family he could call his own. But that had all been long gone. It was something Ricky could never get back. He had learned to accept it over the years, but on nights like this-- when he couldn't even find a decent place to lay his head without fear of being shanked or mugged-- it was all he could think about.

    While he reminisced a happier time, Ricky failed to notice that he wasn't the only one out on the streets tonight. Before he could react, he ran right into somebody who, he guessed, wasn't watching where they were going either. The collision sent both parties staggering back, the luggage Ricky carried fell as his hand shot up to clutch his aching head, which had just been smashed into the other's.  
   

"Oh! I'm- I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention, heh--" He heard the soft, gentle voice of a woman say.

  
    He winced at the pain in his head and looked up at the stranger he'd been assaulted by. He found himself facing a middle aged woman, sporting blonde hair and soft eyes. She looked run down and drained, but something about her seemed welcoming and warm. Ricky realized he had been staring when she gave him a look of concern, he quickly averted her gaze. "Are you ok, honey?" She rubbed her own head, where it collided with Ricky's. "Guess I got ya pretty good there, huh? Sorry about that."

    "Y-Yeah.. its fine don-don't worry about it.." He didn't understand why this strange woman was being so nice to him. Most people he'd had the misfortune of running into, or even making eye contact for that matter, would berate him for being so careless or just plain try to attack him. At first, he figured she was just some trick working the corners-- why else would a woman be out on these streets? He looked at her again; she was dressed in modest, unassuming day-to-day clothes. No fishnets, no mini skirt, no thong that was either 2 sizes too small or 2 sizes too big. Ricky frowned. Why would such a simple, homely woman be out here this late at night?  
"Are you ok?" He heard her ask again. He glanced back up at that gentle smile she had permanently plastered to her face.

    "U-Um.. yeah I'm-- I'm ok." Ricky was completely unsure of how to feel about this lady, but a part of him--maybe it was due to her kind nature or soothing voice-- desperately wanted to trust her.  
"Jesus, kid, how old are you? You look way too young to be out here this late." She examined his dirty, ripped clothing and scrunched up her nose. Ricky hesitated before answering.

    "Sixteen." He looked down at his beat-up shoes and fumbled with the sleeve of his hoodie. He heard her make a soft, pitiful sound in the back of her throat. "What are you doing out here, sweetie? Where are your parents?" The question alone make Ricky cringe.

    The truth was, he didn't have any. Not anymore. They had both passed when he was only 12 years old. He often tried not to think about them, the memories still too painful to remember. He couldn't manage to croak out an answer to the woman and opted for shrugging instead. She seemed to understand and her face fell slightly. After a moment, she quietly asked, "Do you.. Are you looking for a place to stay?" Ricky's eyes shot up and he watched hers fall to the suitcase Ricky had dropped after their run in. She spotted his name, carefully etched into the side--something he did in case a rat tried to steal it when he used to stay at a shelter. "Ricardo?"  
He observed the soft look in her face when their eyes met. "It.. It's just R-Ricky" he barely managed to whisper.  
Her expression faltered slightly as she tried to explain to him. "Well, Ricky," she started "I, um, I run an orphanage. A few blocks from here. Its a- Its a fairly large home and we have extra beds and food and we're always looking out for kids who need a place to sleep." A sweet smile curved its way onto her lips as she considered Ricky's unchanging expression. "It doesn't have to be permanent, but I'd rather you sleep in a bed, in a safe environment than...out here on the streets."

    It took a moment for her words to fully register in Ricky's mind. He couldn't believe this woman he'd just so carelessly ran into on the street-- which in any other case would have ended with a few broken ribs and a bloody nose-- was offering him a place to sleep, even if it was only temporary. Not even the local homeless shelter would take him in, claiming he was too "violent in nature." He considered it for a moment.

_What if its all a trap? What if she's pulling some sex trafficking ring out of her house, and now she's trying to trap me too?_

    He looked up at her. She didn't seem like she was lying, and she sure as hell didn't seem like the type to recruit sex slaves. Maybe she was telling the truth. Maybe Ricky could actually get some food in his stomach and take a nice, hot shower. He almost groaned at the thought and suddenly felt dirtier and hungrier than ever. He silently cursed at himself before deciding to take his chances with this strange blonde lady.  
"O-Okay but.. but just a few nights, alright? I-I don't like staying in one place too long.."

    Instantly, the woman's face lit up, excited and a little surprised the teen had accepted her offer. She bent down and picked up the discarded suitcase, holding it at her side. "You can stay however long you want, honey. Now, come on. Lets get you out of the cold." She gestured for him to follow as she led them both down the street, towards a place that Ricky could call a safehaven. He looked back down at his grimy hand and clutched his fist tightly.  
Maybe things aren't so hopeless after all.

"I'm Beth, by the way," he heard her say.  
"Beth Smith."  
____________________________________

    Worn, wooden floorboard creaked as pairs of bare feet scampered across and down the hallway. The light stomping accompanied by secretive whispers and giggles belonged to the mischievous little children that had successfully snuck out of their designated beds. Hush voices became lost in the silent air of the old, familiar home where they all resided. They carefully tip toed down the splintered stairs, being sure not to make a single sound. Reaching the bottom with a satisfied hop onto the cold floor, three small snickers erupted in the still air.

    Without their main caretaker home, they took their chances with playing past bedtime. As long as they didn't run into any of the adults, they'd be free to prance through the house, giggling and making fun in the quiet of the night. A voice suggested playing down the main hall, being brave enough to risk going into adult territory.

    They turned a corner - expecting fun and mischief - but instead came face to face with vibrant red hair and glaring eyes pointed right at them.

    "What are you guys doing up?" Summer angrily whispered at the three young girls, keeping her voice low enough as to not wake the other kids, yet her tone still stern and vicious to show she meant business. The girls avoided their sister's eye line, refusing to answer out of fear of the consequence to breaking house rules. Summer huffed, "Its way past bedtime! If you don't march upstairs and go back to bed, I'll-" her harsh threat was interrupted by a deeper voice, cutting through the air.

    "I got it, Summer." The slender teen walked out from the dining hall, still in a kitchen apron. He strolled over to them, wiping his hand off with a rag, wet from doing the dishes. He regarded the girls with a smile as they seemed to let their guard down at his presence. "I'll take em back to bed."

    Summer relaxed, grateful for her brother stepped in, saving her the touble of dealing with the tiny brats and allowing her to go back to bed. Sighing - her anger dissipating as quickly as it had come - she turned on her heels and dragged herself back to her room, letting out a relieved, "Thanks, Morty."

    Once Summer's wrath was closed behind a door, Morty looked back at the three timid girls, who were clearly still upset they had gotten caught. "Alrighty, girls, come on lets get you to bed." He herded them out and up the stairs to the forked hallway that led to the segregated dorms, the girls' located on the right. Individually, he brought them to their rooms, tucking each one in and exchanging goodnights.

    After he finished putting a small brunette to bed - Alice, the oldest of the three - he turned to leave the room, only to be stopped by a soft tug on his pant leg. He looked down and spotted the culprit - a tiny 4 year old with a tangled mop of curly hair falling over and down her shoulders. She murmured a quiet whimper at him, and gestured for him to crouch down. He complied with her request and smiled, "Yes, Maddy?"

    Maddy gripped onto his sleeve, keeping herself balanced. "Momo, when's Mommy coming home?" Maddy wasn't technically Beth's daughter but she had been too young when they took her in to differentiate who was her birth mother and who wasn't. She was especially attached to Beth and often wouldn't go to bed unless she was the one to tuck her in. Unfortunately for her and Morty alike, Beth had to stay out late that night. She had what she called "business" to attend to and had put Summer and Morty in charge of taking care of the kids. Of course, this caused mayhem and disruption all throughout the house without the gatekeeper there to make sure everything was in order.

    Morty sighed and gently grabbed Maddy, picking her up as he stood and rested her against his hip. "Mommy had work to do in the city, but she'll be back later. You'll have to do without her tonight, baby." He cooed, keeping his voice light and sweet as not to trigger a massive tantrum. She whined softly, but seemed to accept it with ease. She allowed Morty to tuck her in and kiss her goodnight, letting out no more than a frustrated 'hmph' at not being able to say goodnight to her favorite person. Once she was settled, he was finally able to turn and leave.

    Morty practically dragged himself down the stairs, completely worn out and exhausted from his daily commute of rangling stubborn and unruly children, cleaning up messes, and trying to keep peace between his constantly bickering housemates. He slumped down on the living room couch and let out an exasperated sigh. He couldn't help but wonder where exactly his mom was. On nights like this when she dealt with her "business", she was always home before bedtime. He panicked slightly, his mother never specified what exactly she did, leaving Morty with a simple, _It's work and it makes us money._

    His leg started frantically bouncing, fueled by both impatience and anxiety. Even when she did work late she always called home to let him know. His mind started to wonder to much darker places, imagining different scenarios in which Beth could be harmed. He huffed slightly, hoping none of that was the case. Although he knew how dangerous the night streets could be, he also knew his mother could handle herself. Still, he prayed she was alright.

    His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the distant sound of jingling keys outside the front door. This caused Morty to quickly hop up from his spot and prepared to scold his mother for making him worry so much. The door swung open and he was greeted with her sunshine yellow hair and sweet voice. "Home sweet home," she softly said, apparently to herself.

    Morty opened his mouth to say something but quickly shut it as his noticed the figure standing behind her.  
Beth stopped in her tracks when she noticed her son waiting in the living room. Obviously caught off guard, she stuttered slightly before saying in a hushed voice, "Morty, baby, what're you doing up?" She moved from the doorway and stood to the side to allow her guest entry- giving Morty a clear look at the stranger in his home.

     It was just a boy-no, a teenager- who couldn't be any older than Morty. Dirty, disheveled, and bearing a glare capable of cutting through glass; this kid looked like a problem just waiting to happen. Morty glanced down at the boy's clothes, they were raggedy and covered with filth. It made him think this guy had gone clothes shopping in a dumpster. He was carrying a hefty backpack and accompanying suitcase, making Morty even more suspicious of his presence. When Morty looked up at his face, he was met with steel blue eyes staring back at him with a look of pure indifference. He managed to tear his eyes from the pools of cobalt and laid them on his mother, shooting her a glare of his own.

    "What am __I__ doing up? What are __you__ doing up?? W-Where have you been? Its almost m-midnight!" He decided to save his questions about the dirty stranger in their house and opted for chewing out his mother, fair payback for making him deal with putting the kids to bed. She shot him a stern look only a mother could wield, a silent understanding of saying Who the hell do you think you're talking to?

    "I was __working__ Morty. I called Summer explaining I'd be late." She raised an eyebrow at her fuming son, not understanding why he was pestering her.

    Morty cursed, Of course, Summer didn't tell him anything. Sometimes she could be so unreliable. He mentally kicked himself at catching an attitude with his mom when she hadn't done anything wrong to begin with.  
Instead of apologizing, he settled on changing the subject to the obvious elephant in the room. He gestured to their "guest"-who was now awkwardly standing there watching the mother and son bicker- and raised a questioning brow at Beth. "Okay, you wanna explain him then?"

    Beth glanced at her company and sent him a reassuring smile. She place a gentle hand on his shoulder and looked back at her son. "Morty, this is Ricky." She spoke slowly and calmly, gauging Morty's reaction. "He'll be staying with us for a few days." Beth looked back at the boy, who was now called Ricky, and grinned, trying to make him feel a little less uncomfortable with being in an unfamiliar house.

    Morty was silent for a moment, thoughts running rampant through his head. Another one? His mother wanted to house another kid? Did she have any idea how uncontrollable the already full house of kids was?? He couldn't bear to feed another mouth, wash another ass, enforce even more rules on little brats who would break every single one. And not to mention how much trouble this kid looked to be. He contemplated a moment, trying to figure out a counterpoint against this unwanted houseguest.

     Morty crossed his arms and matter-of-factly stated to his mother, "W-We dont have any spare beds. All the rooms in the boys' dorm are- are taken."

    Without missing a beat, Beth smirked and shot back a snarky remark. "Don't you have an extra bed in your room? He'll stay there."

    Morty jerked back and stared at his mom with wide emerald eyes. "W-Wha- No! Th-Th-That's my room! No f-fair I earned my own space!" He quickly resorted back to his whiny state whenever his mom refused to comply with him. He was, at heart, a full blown momma's boy and acted as such when things don't go his way.

    Beth, used to her son acting like this, disregarded his tantrum and threw her hands up. "Oh, Morty you're being ridiculous. Ricky is staying here and that's settled. Don't be so selfish, it's not like you're using that other bed." She picked up Ricky's small suitcase and shoved it into Morty's hands. "Now be a dear and show our guest to his bed. He really needs to rest."

    Beth turned back to Ricky and smiled, which the spikey headed punk smirk back at her. He seemed clearly entertained by Beth's blatant show of authority. She patted Ricky's back softly, "We'll get you a nice breakfast and a shower in the morning, sound good?" He nodded and she turned back to Morty shooting him a hard look telling him to __Be nice__. She gave them both a soft _ _Goodnight__ and retired to her room, leaving the two alone in the tense air of the situation she'd left behind for them to deal with.

    Morty turned back to his new roommate, already feeling extremely awkward and intimidated just by Ricky's presence. "Uh, follow me, I-I guess.." He clutched the others suitcase in his hand and lead him up the stairs. "I-I-I'm Morty by the way."  
Heavy footsteps followed him up, making Morty feel slightly uncomfortable having someone aggressive and scary so close behind him.

    "Yeah I kinda figured that out already," the gruff, deep voice mumbled, clearly disinterested in what Morty had to say. __Of course__ , Morty figured, he has the voice of a murderer too.

    He rolled his eyes at the rude comment and continued walking down the hall to his room. He stopped at his door and turned to Ricky, "Just... try not to make a mess." Morty felt eyes burning holes in the back of his skull as he faced away and entered his room.  
The bedroom was laid out just like any other in the orphanage; typically set up to house two people. Beds lay on either side of the room along with separate nightstands and dressers. He set the luggage he was carrying next to the unused bed and faced Ricky once more. "If you want any extra pillows or blankets you can find them out in the hall closet," he spoke almost mechanically, repeating the same boring script everytime they had a new resident staying with them.

    He moved to his side of the room and widely gestured to everything he owned, "Please refrain from touching anything on this side, you can do whatever the hell you want with whatever's on your side. J-Just.. not anything over here." He watched as Ricky peeled his backpack from his body and tossed it carelessly on the floor next to his suitcase. He flopped down onto the bed and let out a grateful sigh, stretching out his long limbs with almost cat-like movements.

    Morty smiled slightly at the appreciative noises coming from the other bed. Ricky made it seem like sleeping on that dusty old mattress was the best thing to ever happen to him. Morty felt his heart twinge.

__What if it was?_ _

    Judging from Ricky's appearance, it looked like the kid hadn't slept in weeks. He definitely looked worse for the wear and it made Morty wonder where Beth had even come across him. If he was out in the dirty parts of the city than there's no telling what shit Ricky's been though. That area was known for high crime, homelessness, drug rings, and cheap prostitutes. __Maybe Mom picked him up off the streets..__ Morty thought to himself. She would be the one to come across a scruffy looking homeless boy and immediately offer him a home. Morty stripped off the apron he still wore from eariler and tossed it aside, climbing into bed and silently thanked God to finally be off his feet.

    Within seconds his body began blissfully sinking into the depth of slumber, and as he drifted off to sleep, a thought found its way into is head:

_At least Ricky's off the streets and safe._


	2. There's No Place Like Home, But This'll Do Just Fine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ricky's first day in his new home.

     "Get up." A voice jolted Ricky awake accompanied by a pillow thrown carelessly against his face. Ricky let out a frustrated grunt and pried his eyes open to see the slender green-eyed boy towering over his bed. Morty looked down at him with annoyance, ready to chew Ricky out for sleeping too long.

    "Its almost 8. Breakfast is ready and I suggest you get up before its all gone." Morty turned and set something at the end of Ricky's bed. Ricky forced himself to sit up, grumbling along the way. He peeked over to see Morty had set down a towel. He made a confused noise and looked back at Morty. The kid sighed softly and strained to hold back a sarcastic tone. "You need a shower. Preferably before the rest of the family sees you. First impressions, yenno?" A soft smirk curved on his lips as he yanked the covers off Ricky's body, tempting him to get out of bed.

     Ricky made a pathetic sound as his source of warmth was torn away. He shoved his face into his pillow and clung to the comfort of the bed. He couldn't remember a night when he slept so soundly. Most of the time he'd have to get black out drunk just to get a few hours of sleep. But, as much as he didn't want to move from the soft comfortable spot, a shower and food sounded like heaven. His stomach groaned at the thought of _actual_ breakfast. He sat up and sighed, looking up at those fiery emerald eyes still staring down at him. "I need clothes." All the clothes he had in his baggage were too filthy and crusty for him to wear.

     Morty nodded as if expecting this response and gestured towards his dresser. "I have some clothes that might fit you, help yourself. The bathroom is to the right of the hall. Don't be long." He threw a lazy wave at Ricky and left the room to wake the rest of the kids. 

     Ricky threw his legs over the side of the bed and slowly got to his feet. For the first time in a long time his bones didn't crack and ache like they almost always did when he woke up from sleeping on some bench or dirty alley ground. He was grateful that his young bones didn't sound like firecrackers now, proof that all he needed was a good nights rest in a bed. An _actual_ bed. Ricky stepped over to the dresser and started rifling through Morty's clothes. Most of them were way too small, considering how tiny Morty was. Eventually, he found some sweatpants and an old worn band tee big enough to fit him. He grabbed the towel and clothes and quickly rushed to the bathroom. He hurried to pry his dirty clothes off and turned the shower on. The action seemed so alien to him, so surreal and unnatural. It had been too long since he'd had the privilege of standing under that hot stream, able to wipe away the grime and rottenness of the day. Once he stepped under that downpour of heat, he almost moaned out loud. He let the water run down his dirty, bruised and broken body, allowing it to erase years of abuse and sin. The filth swirled down the drain along with the tense stress of his life. He signed happily as he finished washing his hair, letting the water flow over him once more. As much as he never wanted to leave the shower, he really wanted to get some food. After he dried off his soaking body and shook his hair free of loose water droplets, he pulled on the clothes he'd borrowed from Morty. He almost didn't recognize the boy he saw in the mirror. He saw a clean and fresh face staring back at him where all he used to see was someone too dirty, too used up to be worth anyone's time. He smiled at his new reflection and turned to leave the bathroom in search of a meal.

______________________________________

     After successfully getting all the kids up and ready, including his new and stubborn roommate, Morty was now struggling to get each kid sat down and fed. A task which was seemingly impossible to do each and every morning. He hurried around the dining hall, plates of food held high above his head so none of the frenzied kids he was busy trying to feed would knock them over. The room was filled with loud, childish screams and breakfast food sent flying across the table as the kids refused to settle down. Morty had spent a good 10 minutes serving and scolding and reprimanding the naughty kids before sitting down and finally being able to eat some of his own breakfast. He heard Summer and his Mom rushing around the kitchen, cooking and cleaning and trying to get everything in order as he shoved a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth.

     From the corner of his eye he saw a spiked head of blue hair nervously enter the dining hall. He looked over as Ricky slowly made his way toward him, glancing around at the bustling and busy tables filled with loud hungry children. Ricky avoided eye contact as he sat down across from Morty. 

     "W-Where uh... Where's the food?" He softly asks, obviously still unsure of being there.

     Morty smiled at Ricky's plain vulnerability. He slowly stood up and gestured to the kitchen, "I'll get it for ya. Bacon or sausage?" Ricky looked up at him, his eyebrow quirked in confusion. He hesitated slightly before answering, "Bacon." 

     Morty nodded and left to retrieve the food. When he came to the kitchen he found his sister and mom still busy with their tasks. The room was filled with the smell of homecooked food; sweet oatmeal, savory bacon and sausage, and fluffy eggs. He grabbed a plate and was about to fill it full before Summer grabbed his arm, stopping him. He looked at her and was met with shimmering eyes filled with excitement and curiosity. She immediately started busting out question after question. "So where's the new kid? I hear he's your age! Is he cute? Is he tall?? Mom told me he was nice, is he nice?? I bet he's nice. Do you guys get along?? How do you feel about havin a new roomie huh?" She shot him a wink and opened her mouth to spill out more inquiries but Morty cut her off. "He's in the dining hall. Ask him yourself." 

     Beth sauntered over to her kids and slapped a hand on Morty's back, making him jump unexpectedly. "How's he settling?" 

     Morty shrugged and turned to his mom, he snapped at her-- already annoyed and just trying to make some goddamn breakfast. "I don't know man! Just go fucking ask him, he's right outside." Morty quickly filled the plate with eggs, oatmeal and bacon, grabbing a glass of orange juice to go along with it. "I suggest you let him eat first before you annoy him with your stupid questions." Morty turned and left them with that.

     He returned back to the table to see a few kids have surrounded Ricky, curious to meet the new resident. _Great, now they get to bother him with stupid questions._

Ricky looked incredibly uncomfortable as the children pestered him with questions ranging from _Where did you come from?_ to _Why's your hair blue?_ He spotted Morty and sent him a look of pure desperation. Morty laughed to himself and walked over, setting the plate and cup in front of Ricky. He shooed the kids away, "Outta the way shitheads. Leave the new kid alone and go eat." The kids grumbled and returned to their seats, mumbling about _never being able to do anything._

    Ricky sighed and shook his head, "Fuckin hell how do you deal with all these kids?" He looked down at the food infront of him, his expression grateful and almost wonton. He quickly began shoveling food into his mouth, barely even chewing in between bites. Morty raised an eyebrow at his undeniable hunger. _Kid must have been hungry._

     "You get used to it." Morty rested his chin in his hand and glanced over at the kitchen, noticing his sister and mother peering out of the window, staring right at them. _So fucking nosy._

     "How'd you sleep?" he looked back at Ricky, seeing he had already finished off every thing on his plate. Ricky wiped his mouth and raised a brow at Morty.

    "Uh... fine. Just fine." He looked down at his empty plate, avoiding Morty's gaze. "Thanks for the clothes.. by the way."

     Morty nodded, "Don't worry about it. We can get yours cleaned before tonight so you don't have to squeeze yourself into mine." He saw a slight smile spread across Ricky's face.

     Morty took a moment to really look at Ricky. He looked so much better without all that dirt layered onto his face. The dark bags that hung down under his eyes were now lighter and less prominent, Morty guess from a good night's sleep. His hair, although still wild and unkempt, was no longer greasy and messy. Morty suddenly had the urge to reach out to run his fingers through it. Ricky almost looked... _hot._

     He shook his head free of those thoughts. Focusing at the task at hand, he quietly said, "You should really come and meet my sister. You don't have to bother yourself with meeting all the kids in the home but she's pretty impossible to avoid."

     Ricky gulped and shot pleading eyes at Morty. He sighed and stood, not bothering to pick up his discarded plate. “Fine. Where is she?”

    Morty stood along with him and smirked at Ricky’s display of contempt towards meeting Summer. “Kitchen. Be prepared for a bunch of bullshit questions.” He picked up Ricky’s empty tray and lead them to the kitchen, already regretting the whole situation.

______________________________________

     Ricky reluctantly followed Morty to the kitchen, his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his sweatpants. As grateful as he was— being given a home, a bed to sleep in, food and a chance to start a new and better life— he was still totally over meeting people and dealing with snotty, annoying little kids. Now he had to meet some bitch that he in no way wanted to. The last thing Ricky wanted to do was answer a bunch of questions, which he was able to avoid from the mob of children that surrounded him in the dining hall. He sighed softly as Morty held the kitchen door open for him. He heard the boy softly say “Good luck,” before Ricky entered.

     Ricky stepped into the large, messy kitchen and immediately noticed Beth standing by the sink, just finishing the dishes. He smiled, glad to see someone familiar. His comfort was quickly replace with reluctance as he noticed the redhead standing next to her. She turned and locked eyes with Ricky, a huge smile spread across her face instantly. “Well, well, well, who’s this now?” Her exclamation made Beth turn and face Ricky, she smiled wide at the sight of him, “Hey sweetie! How’re you settling?”

     Ricky started fidgeting with the strings on his sweatpants— something to distract him from his nervousness. Still a little uncomfortable with the redhead staring him down, who he assumed was the sister he was being forced to meet, he hesitated before answering Beth. “Fine, I guess.. Still trying to get used to all these kids though..” 

     Beth nodded, turning back to continue cleaning up the mess from breakfast. “Yeah, I understand that. They’re good kids though, you’ll get used to them.” She shook her head, laughing to herself. “I can assure you after about two days they’ll forget you’re even here.”

     “I won’t.” The redhead butted in. Ricky looked over to her once again, a shiteating smirk now displayed on her face. “You gonna introduce yourself blue boy?” The girl crossed her arms and sauntered over to him. “I think I should know the guy who’s sleeping with my brother.”

     Morty, who was patiently sitting back watching, now made his way into the conversation to snap at his sister. “Hes not _sleeping with me_ dickhead. We just share a room.”

    Ricky snorted to himself, _You wish_.

    “I’m Ricky. The hell are you?”

     Summer snickered and slapped a hand on Ricky’s back, making him grunt. “You got a little attitude, huh Ricky? I’m Summer, Morty’s big sister so yenno, don’t fuck with my brother.” Summer shot him a wink and backed off, “I’m just fucking with you. It’s good to have you here buddy. Always great to have a new addition to our little family.”

 _Wow_ , Ricky thought to himself— moving back away from Summer— _what a bitch._

     “Yeah, cool, nice to meet you.” Ricky looked over at Morty, who locked eyes with him and shook his head, mouthing the words _I’m sorry._

     “Well if we’re all done here,” Morty grabbed onto Ricky’s arm, pulling him towards the door, “We gotta go get Ricky’s clothes washed and get him settled in the room so...” He dragged them both to the door and rushed Ricky through, ignoring Summer and Beth’s protesting. “Bye!”

     Morty successfully yanked Ricky away from the kitchen and dining hall, leading him back to their room. “I’m really sorry about them. They can be... irritating.” Ricky followed the brunette, looking around at the other room as they passed. He noticed they were empty, he couldn’t even here the constant dull roar of childish squeals and screams. “Where is everyone?” He looked back at Morty, who shrugged and sighed slightly.

     “School. Believe it or not, the kids here can still get an education.” Ricky raised a brow. What was the point of going back to school? Once Ricky ran away he never went back. Who cared if he had a 6th grade education, he’d preferred street smart over book smart any day.

     “Why aren’t you at school?” He glanced at Morty, who for some reason found the question funny. “Heh— I dropped out. Me and Summer kind of had to when my dad left. We couldn’t leave my mom to take care of everyone alone.” He shrugged and stepped into their room, gesturing for Ricky to follow.

     Ricky sat himself next to his bed and began pulling a mess of dirty old clothing from his suitcase. He tossed them in Morty's direction, who caught them with a slight grimace. 

    "Jesus do you just roll around in dirt all the time?"

    "Basically." Ricky fell into his bed, stretching out and folding his arms behind his head. "Get to work, bus boy." He smirked and winked at those pissy emerald eyes. 

    "Whatever man. Just know this is a one time thing. From now on you'll be doing your own dirty ass laundry, got it?"

     Ricky brushed him off and turned away, shoving his face into his pillow, hoping to get a good nap in before the annoying little shits got home from school.

     While Morty left to go take care of Ricky's disgusting laundry, Ricky found himself slowly drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

_______

     Hours later--surpassing lunch, dinner, and bedtime-- Ricky finally woke from his nap. Even though it felt like no less than an hour, he now found himself sitting in a dark room, the only source of light coming from the blissful rays of the night moon. Ricky looked down to see he had been covered with a blanket and noticed all his clothes had been cleaned, folded, and placed atop his dresser. A soft snoring came from the next bed and he looked over to see Morty, a small silhouette slowly rising and falling with each breath, completely passed out in his bed.

     He let out a soft sigh and cursed himself silently. Shit, maybe he needed more sleep than he thought. It was a shame that he missed lunch _and_ dinner. He glanced down at his backpack and quirked a brow. A big bottle of scotch was hidden in his bag, something he'd stolen a few weeks ago and was waiting for the perfect time to get shitfaced. He figured with a perfectly silent and blissfully unaware house, that time might as well be now. Being extra careful not to make a sound, he reached down and pulled the glass bottle from his bag. He popped off the top, lifting it in a silent toast to himself, and threw it back, savoring the sweet burn of the liquor.

 _Bottoms up_.

______________________________________

     A soft sound roused Morty from his sleep. His eyes opened to be met with the dark night image of his room. Morty sat and listened for the sound again. Small sniffling and the undeniable sound of someone crying drifted through the quiet air of the house. Morty sighed, hearing crying in the night wasn't uncommon for him. He often had to get up to settle a sobbing child, distressed from a nightmare. He sat up, rubbing the sleepiness away from his eyes, preparing himself to deal with an upset kid who refused to let anyone sleep with their whimpers and cries of the night. 

     Morty was about to stand, but froze when he realized the quiet sobbing was closer than usual. Looking across the room, his eyes still adjusting to the dark, he noticed a figure crouched on the opposite bed, shuddering and shaking with silent tears. 

     It took his tired mind a moment to realize it was Ricky who was crying. Morty's heart almost stopped at the realization, part of him not wanting to disturb his neighbor, the other part wanting to jump to his aid, holding him and comforting him like a mother clinging to her child. 

     He hesitated slightly before standing, muttering a quiet, "Ricky..?" His voice soft enough not to frighten him.

     The sobbing halted, and he saw Ricky's head shoot up, teetering slightly as he tried to hold himself up. The small rays of moonlight made the tears visible enough on Ricky's cheeks for Morty to make out. They made those once abrasive cobalt eyes vulnerable and delicate. 

     Morty slowly made his way towards Ricky's bed, the closer he got the more he noticed the heavy scent of liquor settling in the air. He shook his head _, I should have known_.

     He sat on the crickety old bed next to Ricky, who avoided all eye contact and sobbed silently to himself. Ricky was curled into a ball, as if he could roll in on himself like an armadillo in need of protection.

     "Is everything...ok?" 

     Ricky stayed silent for a moment before finding his voice. It sounded broken, as if he'd been violently sobbing for hours, but it could have been due to the large amount of alcohol that burned its way past his vocal chords.

     "I-I... I'm w-worthless, Morty.." Ricky stilfed a sob, silent tears spilling down his face. "I'm nothing. J-Just a w-worn down s-sack of..of.." His breathing hitched and he buried his face in his hands, resuming his blubbering. 

     Morty hesitated before wrapping an arm around Ricky's shaking shoulders. "That's.. That's not true, Ricky. Y-You shouldn't think like that--" 

     Ricky threw his arms up, knocking Morty's off him. "N-No, Morty you dont fu-fucking under--understand!" He let out rapid shuddering breaths, his lungs over working themselves. "I-I have nothing. No one. I-I can't even find comfort in myself because e-every time I l-look in the mirror all I can see is someone who isn't worth the time of fucking day!" He shuddered again, wiping his eyes in an attempt to stop the flow of tears that refused to let up. "I sh-shouldn't be here.. I-I just wanna.. I just wanna go home.." His sobbing began once again, more violent than before.

     Morty's heart clenched at the sight of someone he thought so strong and unbreakable--now completely helpless and sunked-- weeping and condemning himself. Morty quickly wrapped his arms around Ricky, squeezing tightly as if he could force all the sadness out of the spiky haired punk. He let Ricky sob into his shoulder, let him cling to his clothes and hold onto him for dear life. 

     "You are worth so much more than you think.. Y-You need to believe that you're worth it and you need to believe that y-you'll get through this," Morty found himself starting to tear up, "The more you tell yourself that you aren’t worth it, the more you'll feel like you’re not worth anything when the truth is.. you are worth everything, Ricky." He pulled back and looked into the shimmering ocean eyes of the boy in front on him. "Your past doesn't define you."

     Ricky's crying settled to a soft whimper and occasional sniffle. He wiped his leaking nose on his arm and swayed slightly, still clearly intoxicated. "Wha-What.. What'd you know? You an-and your cushy f-family life..."

     Morty sighed and glaced down at his hands. He struggled to hold back tears of his own. Instead if trying to defend and explain his problems, his issues and his pain; he opted for pulling up his sleeve to show the evidence of it all. 

     Ricky looked down, even in the dark he could still make out the light faded scars zig-zagged across the pale canvas of Morty's arm. His eyes followed the trail of raised lines making their way up Morty's skin. Morty watched those steel blue eyes settle on the crest of his forearm, watched his eyes examine the dark circles littering the surface of his veins--proof of his former traumatic addiction. 

     Morty tore his eyes away from Ricky's face, too scared to witness the expression of judgment and disgust that was sure to come. He squeezed his fist closed, his voice came out shaky and strained, "D-Don't think you're w-worthless because... because of things you've done.. I-I should.." He relaxed his body, "I should know." 

     Morty looked back at Ricky, only to see the boy staring right back, tears returning to his eyes and falling rapidly down his face. 

     Morty reached up to wipe the salty tears from those cold blue eyes, only to be stopped by a hand wrapping itself around his wrist. 

     Before Morty could react, Ricky's lips were on his. Soft and subtle lips danced against his, and after a moment, Morty's danced back. Ricky's mouth clutched to Morty, desperately needing comfort, contact, _anything_.

     Morty became lost in the moment, savoring the sweet taste of scotch that lingered on Ricky's lips, feeling himself get drunk off the taste alone. 

     Ricky's hands drifted up and became tangled in the soft curls on Morty's head, pulling Morty against him in a frantic attempt to get closer. 

     They stayed like this for a moment, although to both it felt like hours. Ricky pulled back, leaving Morty stunned and hungry for more. He pressed his forehead against Morty's, tears still falling from his eyes. "I-I'm sorry.."

     Morty closed his eyes and sighed, still a little shocked from their kiss. He cupped the side of Ricky's face, "W-We should get you to bed, Ricky."

      He showed no resistance as Morty laid him down, his whimpers halting as soon as his head hit the pillow, immediately falling into a drunken sleep.

     Morty pulled the blanket over Ricky and sighed. He stood up from the bed, grabbing the discarded bottle of scotch and tossing it in the bin.

     Once Morty was back in his own bed, he bundled himself up in his blanket and stared at the wall in front of him.

     Fuck. What did he get himself into?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading my first fic, hope you nerds like this pile of garbage


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